Left With Flowers
by Ukyou
Summary: PT 2 - Sakura has died of her injuries and Syaoran never forgives himself. Years later, Syaoran is haunted by the things he could've said and done before she had died. He must confront with his pain in his dreams, the only place he can still see her.
1. Introduction Chapter One Flowers on the...

Left With A Flower By Ukyou

Introduction - Flowers on the Table

I put my hand on the knob, the metal stinging, as it was very cold. Even inside the hospital, the hallways seemed to blow a wind of their own.

Still, even as this cool breeze was pushing me to go inside, I did not want, nor did I believe I could bear seeing what was to be seen just beyond the thick dominating wooden door that stood in front of me. That is where I stood, frozen in my steps, my hand stuck to the knob, and yet not letting it be turned.

...and then I opened the door, looking forward, the light switch flicked on without thinking. It was almost as if something had pushed me to walk in, and had succeeded. It was a small room, a tv on the side, a small window to look out of.

Sakura lay on the bed, her bandaged body covering her, her face bruised. She had been attacked this morning. Tomoyo had told me so on the phone this morning.

...and god, I was speechless.

I walked to her side and sat in the chair by her. I could hear her breathing from here, which was deep and almost sounded as if she was sufficating. I took no notice, instead I merely sat down, not moving or anything, just staring.

Then, removing myself from my moment of thought, I put my hand upon hers, which was limply hanging off the bed. I held it, tight, the coldness of it bringing me fear that she was already dead, but her breathing reassuring me.

'Oh my god, Sakura, who could've done this to you?' I asked, her eyes retaining their closed positions. She never moved, she was completly desolate, her face gone pale. She had scratch marks on the side of her arm, and her eye was looming in a large black spot.

I didn't give out a tear, however.

She had my pity indeed, but not enough to induce my tears, for in my own mind, I had remained silent though it all. And that was exactly how I'd remain. Silent. No words spoken.

Then, I stood up and quickly walked out. I shut the lights before I did though, knowing full well she was sleeping.

I also took note of the flowers on top of the small table by Sakura's bed. It was obvious that he had beaten me here, for my call was after his.

I shut the door, silently, keeping the full intent to not wake her.

After all, she was his now anyway.

She never told me what he had...that I didn't.

She merely walked away from me, telling me that as she did her usual stride. It was raining, and I merely stood there.

She was the one who was unfaithful to me...but then, why must I come back to see her here, in the hospital? Am I that hopeless?

Perhaps.

cont 


	2. Chapter Two The Endless Waltz

Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

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Chapter Two - The Endless Waltz

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The sky was pure lilac, the road set into lonely montages. The lamps were set to dim downwards, leaving only small islands of light upon the sidewalk, in which benches were mere shadows hidden in the dark. I walked down this road today, hands in my coat pockets. 

It was late, and I strode down the sidewalk in constant step, looking down constantly and thinking, the puddles giving small ripples out as I stepped within each.

It had been raining only a few minutes ago, and it was bound to start to rain again. I took this walk everyday, from work to home, and I knew the buildings, the street, and even the cracks in the light pavement. I knew the beauty of the trees in the spring, and the downfall of the fall.

The hospital. It loomed over me like a tower that had yet to be explored. The glass doors remained unlocked, even at this hour, and I stopped in front of the massive building, looking at the window that was Sakura's. 

It was small, and half open. The curtains had been pulled aside, and I could clearly see that a light had just turned off. Someone was leaving her room.

I don't know exactly what made me stop there, nor do I know what pushed me to walk into the building in the first place. Before I knew it, I was opening the door to the stairs and climbing up, knowing full well that whoever left Sakura's room knew me as well. I didn't need reminiscence. 

---

The room was empty, as I had thought. Near her bed, another bouquet of flowers, and a framed picture standing up on the table beside her. As I sat, I took the picture and put it face down. 

I knew I had forgotten to turn the light on, sitting in the dark, the door letting in the few blinks of light from the hallway. The noir of the room surrounding me like a blanket, and Sakura's hand was the only part of her that I could see, for it was all the light was touching.

Once again, I held her hand. It was cool. She was sleeping again. The angelic impression of her face was untouched by the scope of my eyes, but her hand which I held within mine felt like porcelain, the contours and the pure shape nothing more than art to me. 

I could hear the wind grow louder from outside the room, and I walked to shut it. There was a brief flash of lightning, followed by the sudden roar of thunder. It felt overpowering, enough that I was sent back to my chair, the same chair that her man would probably sit upon to caress the very hand I held. To think of it made me sick. 

I was glad that I could not see her face at all, for it was foreshadowed among the darkness, it had consumed her in a way. I knew that if I had seen her face, I would've been led to think, think too much perhaps, lead myself down the road of questioning and ranting. 

Afterall, she was the one whom had walked away from me. She's the one whose mouth came out the words that I would forever question. I had stood there, not saying a word, only to take the punishment that she could unleash upon me, finishing it all with a back turned. 

Our love was a dance. She had careened herself out of my arms, as I danced blindly, still in step. It was an endless waltz I was stuck in, and for no reason at all. 

Strange how I said I wouldn't question muyself about all of this, and here I am, questioning. How ironic of me. I must have lied.

I wondered how long she could be sleeping, for I hadn't seen her awake since she left me. It was so long ago, but I still care about her for some reason. Either that, or thats just another lie I'm telling myself. In fact, I also want to find out why...I needed the answers so I could stop my questioning. I needed a stop to the music, the stop of the dance I was dancing. 

Why did she turn her back on me? 

What had I done?

Why had she betrayed me so?

~to be continued

Author's Note: A story written in the point of view of the somewhat-insane, a man driven to insanity by forces other than his own. Don't be misled that this is simply a conflict of the fact that he wants her back. He doesn't. Syaoran merely wants to be able to live with himself again, for he never knew what he did wrong. That is all.


	3. Chapter Three Silence

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Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

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Chapter Three - Silence

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Syaoran the photographer. He could never have seen himself with such a job had he thought about it only a year ago, but Syaoran could capture all he saw in the world, skillfully trapping the emotion and feeling within the thin roll of film. 

On most cases, he could have it banded around his neck, dangling from it in the front, the lens cap hanging limly on its string. The camera was old, but it was adequate for a man that used it only for personal pleasure. 

He lived in an apartment on the far edge of the city, the living room containing only a single table, a light bulb hanging from a chain, so loose that a single tap could let it down. A wooden chair stood on the side of the table, an old newspaper rolled upon it. There was a bathroom, which was well-kept, a small kitchen, and Syaoran's bedroom, in which contained a television set and his bed, which was quite comfortable, much unlike the rest of his home. 

His closet, however, was always dark, for that was where he processed his photos. He had a job, but his apartment was paid by his mother, who would send him small checks of money, enough for the rent.

Sakura had never visited him here, for he had always gone to her house, or meet up with her elsewhere. It was never quite peculiar to her one bit, it seemed. She seemed to pass it away, swat it like a fly, and afterwards not notice a single one in the air. It was so perfect. 

Syaoran fumbled his hands in his pockets as he climbed the wooden stairs to his apartment door, the boards creaking below his feet. When he finally did reach the top, keys in hand, he quickly opened the door and shut it behind himself. 

He didn't want to see Sakura at all. Instead, perhaps it was in his head that he didn't plan on seeing her again. It hurt him too much.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone, and he was planning to have his. In fact, perhaps two cups.

---

It was after a long shower and small meal that Syaoran decided to lie down, just for a little while. His head felt as if he had hit it against a wall, and he collapsed upon his bed.

...but has he did so, his ears twitched to the angellic sound of a music box, his music box. The music flowed in and out of his ears, much unlike most music that touched him. 

It appeared at first that the shaking of the bed may have triggered it, but..no, that couldn't be at all.

He was soon being led to believe that it started playing by itself.

It was simple on the outside, still keeping its original cherrywood color, but glazed over so it shone in light. It had a small metal handle about the side of a thumbnail that would wind it, the door on top being held by a small handle. 

Sakura had given it to him, and he found it quite peculiar that the little thing would be playing, for it was mocking him in a way. Within its small tune was a hidden message, perhaps pushing him to see her. Push him to think once more. Think about how he got it, the ripe smell of fruit, the singing of cicadas. 

'No.' he said aloud to himself, shutting the small door of the music box. 'No, this is not happening. Its over.'

...and with that, he threw the small music box against the wall, its small gears and springs flying out of it as it smashed to the floor. It gave a small, but dying, tune as it landed, slowly stopping. 

He had gone mad. Or that was what he thought. He found himself lying in his bed, facing the ceiling, tears slowly seeping from under his eyelids. He didn't know why, he thought his fit of anger would do him well. 

...and with that, he ran out of his room and barged out the door. He sprinted down the stairs and ran outside. Perhaps he had indeed gone mad, for he had run outside without a jacket, and it was raining.

Where was there to go? The clouds hung in the sky as if they were danging from strings, a quick flash of lightning recieving merely a blink from the man, his running continuing without even a single break for air. Thin strands of water seeped down his brow, for he was now soaking wet. 

When he had reached the park, he didn't have to look around to notice he was all alone. His quickness soon faulted, his great steps now a walking pace. He followed the sidewalk, winding like a jackknife through the vast grassy plain. 

...and then he arrived there. It was the end of the sidewalk, the middle of a double row of cherry blossom trees. They were in full bloom, much unlike the last time he was here.

It was a few steps forward, merely three paces where a large puddle now lay, in which he was standing in front of Sakura so long ago. The expression on his face didn't change at all, and he stared forward, as if Sakura was still standing there. 

...and perhaps it was all imagined, or conjured by his mind, but it soon appeared to him that she was indeed standing there, her hair let down, weaving into a shapeless pattern with the wind. He knew it was only an illusion, he knew it wasn't real. She stood there in front of him, like a fragment of a dream, the mere flicker of one that seemed so fragile, it would vanish if touched by merely a whisper.

Syaoran kept silent, looking at her, the mocking smile painted on her face. She seemed to never get wet at all, she just stood there. The angellic impression was a shadow, a spectre.

Still, something inside him pushed him to say something, and he found himself opening his mouth, but no words would come out of it. 

...and finally, he broke the silence. 

'What the hell do you want?!' he yelled, his face changing into an expression of anger, as he soon found himself yelling at the image. 

'Do you wish to mock me, Sakura?! Out here in the rain, watch me get soaked as you continue to smile? Much as you did so long ago? Why can't you just turn your back on me now!!' he went on, furiously. His hand pointed at her as he said so, but she didn't even flinch. In fact, it didn't occur to him anymore that she wasn't real.

It was quiet once again, and unbeknownst to him, Syaoran's tears fell once again. To feel as if he was ignored, it drove him to insanity. Even more though, it hurt him. He felt as if someone had reached deep inside him, grabbed his heart, and then squeezed it, not letting go at all.

He fell onto his knees, palms on the ground. He was shaking, for he was also cold, but was also unstable. He could not tell anymore if he was crying or not, it was raining so hard that he could not tell the difference. 

His voice was now weak, his face looking down. The rain pounded harder and harder, making it all the more difficult to see Sakura at all in the cascade.

'...Sakura....what....what do you want from me....?' he spoke, the words flowing out of him as if he needed to release them. He never looked back up, instead, he collapsed upon the ground. 

'...why did you do it...' he whispered, in a tone that suggested that he was talking to himself. He looked back up, and saw that she was gone. She wasn't real. She wasn't there. He was just seeing things. Thats all.

'Syaoran.' he heard from behind himself, and he quickly stood up to see who it was.

She held an umbrella, long black hair falling down upon her shoulders. It was Tomoyo, and she soon asked me what happened.

He simply stood under the umbrella and kept quiet. Or at least, he tried to. 

'Syaoran, you're soaked. Here, I'll take you to my place and we'll talk over a cup of coffee, ok?' she offered in a tone that he could not refuse. And that is what happened, he agreed to it fully. 

...and so they turned and walked away from the scene. He couldn't help but look back, however, the cherry blossoms waving to me in the wind. But in between, He quickly glanced to see if Sakura was still there. No, she couldn't be, he thought to himself, 

'...she was never there.'

'She was merely a figment of my imagination'

'Sakura...she's...in the hospital...'

All of these things filled his mind as he walked away. Still, nevertheless, he didn't know what would happen if Sakura was really there. Could he really say such things? Or did he say them because he knew that she wasn't real.

...but what if that wasn't the case...

then what would there be to say, when the time was right?

...or would it simply be silent...?

~to be continued

---

Author's note: Perhaps I lost some of you as in to what happened in this chapter. Maybe you already do know what happened, but still, you can tell, nonetheless, that Syaoran is taking a heavy beating from 'that day', and yet cannot reveal such emotions when he is really around Sakura. 

On the other hand, if his mind could play such tricks on him, what would happen if he lost touch of what was real...and what was imagined?

Perhaps he won't be able to hold it in much longer...

Keep reading, and please review. The more reviews I get, the more I feel like writing :P

..oh yea, and to reply to a few e-mails I got, I am not an adult. In fact, I turned 15 in March.


	4. Chapter Four Syaoran's Dream That Night

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Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

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Chapter Four - The Dream

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'Syaoran?'

'Syaoran?'

'Syaoran...?' 

'Answer me, Syaoran'

---

It was a hard slap to the face that brought him to his senses, as he could see that he wes sleeping against a tree. There was an unbrella, folded, near him, and yet it was such a bright and sunny day. 

Perhaps it was, he thought to himself, for it was too bright to see most anything. He guessed it might have been due to his sleep, and he would only have to give a few minutes to see anything. 

The minutes passed, nothing happened. The umbrella, which he could feel with his hand, came closer and closer to him, very very slowly it seemed. He picked it up instinctivly, and something in his mind whispered to him:

'Open it.'

He did so, as he finally could see around himself. The sun had been partcially been covered by the clouds, which loomed above him for a dance in the sky. There was a light drizzle, yet to him felt more like a summer shower rather than a drizzle. He stood in the middle of a large field, one to which there was no end at any edge. 

Then, as if by magic, a path made of cobblestone appeared below his feet and streched outwards over the plains and hills of the field. He turned around, seeing that the path may spawn miles behind him, and possibly forwards as well. 

'Follow it, Syaoran. Do not stray from the path.'

And I did so. With each step though, I could hear music slowly get louder and louder, the sound of a piano, hauntingly moving through me. The umbrella gave a slight 'pitter-patter' as I waslked by, the rain hitting it lightly and sliding down the sides like a small thin waterfall. 

To my sides, there appeared a slideshow of memories, displaying as a feast to my eyes as they were reinacted to the sides. I took no notice of them, at all, until I heard a line that I could not forget.

'Syaoran, I thought it would be nice to hand you a present for our anniversary' the voice said, this time a female. I turned my head to the right, the umbrella leaning against my shoulder. It was Sakura...standing in front of.... myself.

It felt strange to be watching the event from third person, and both of them stood there, in the middle of the field to my right, doing the exact things that had happened on our past and last anniversary together, as if we were still outside her home. 

She handed me the box in that image, and I had opened it to find the music box within it. She picked it up, wound it with the small winder and opened the lid to play it. The tune playing, I remembered it so...I remembered every note of it.

'Keep it, Syaoran. Don't lose it, Don't break it. Find it a symbol of us, for if we do break up, I do believe that you will lose all care of it anyways. Still, promise me that you will never break it.' 

...but I didn't hear her say that, instead, I kept walking down the path. Faced forward, the memories displayed everywhere, even right in front of me. 

I continued walking, the piano getting louder and louder, as if I was comming closer and closer to one as it played. Looking forward, however, I could see nothing more than the path. 

Then where was this music comming from...?

It was awhile afterwards in which I saw a peculiar something just lying in the middle of the long path. After a few minutes of walking, I discovered that it was my camera, and I picked it up. Strange that it would be here, I thought to myself.

Curiously, I lifted it up and looked through the viewfinder with one eye, much as I always did. It was snowing, from what I saw through it. That is what I saw though my camera, the same place I was in now, but it was snowing. When I lowered my camera to see it with both my eyes however, it was indeed snowing. An enigma it was, for it was still warm all around me. 

Looking around again, I could not see the path anymore, for it was covered in snow. The visions of memories had all but disappeared. Other than that, the only thing that remained the same was the piano track that played, and I could hear it well now, to the point in which I could hear the tapping of the player's fingers on the keys. 

A trail of footsteps led away from me though, out off the path and deep into the field. I was being driven to follow it, but inside my head, the words echoed.

'...do not stray from the path, Syaoran.'

...but I did. I ran, actually, dropping the umbrella behind me and following it. 

The sky turned black in a matter of seconds, but the snow seemed to glow. I kept running and running, faster and faster even. 

As I ran, the skies became darker, until they could not grow dark any furthur. Or perhaps they were, but I couldn't see it. The snow glowed with a greenish aura, and I continued to run, following the footsteps that lay ahead of me. 

Then, in the midst of a cloud of fog, there came the shape of a piano. There was a woman at the stood, and I walked closer to see who it was. The song was beautiful and captivating, and it mesmorized me as she continued to play.

...but suddenly she stopped, and stared at me. Her face, it was one I had never seen before. She opened her mouth, pulling back the hood that covered her face.

'I told you not to stray from the path, Syaoran' she said to me, standing up and slowly walking towards me. 

'Could you not listen to me, Syaoran, just a single word, I said not to walk off, and you deliberatly disobeyed me.'

'Is it so hard to understand? Or did something catch your eye and force you to walk away?'

'Syaoran, why drop the umbrella before you run? Was there something important to catch up to?'

'Syaoran...why stray the path just to find something as stupid and disappointing as this?'

'Don't stray, Syaoran. Don't look back. Don't follow false footsteps, Syaoran. Just walk forward.' 

She threw words at me faster than I could hear them, and I backed away from her slowly.

and suddenly it was quiet.

completly quiet.

---

...and I awoke. 

It was a dream. I found myself lying down sideways on a large red couch. There was a cup of tea near me, which become cold, and I reached to pick it up. I could hear music comming from another room nearby, which was the piano song which was in my dream. 

...the same music...

I stood up and followed it. I was in Tomoyo's house, I could tell. The rooms and hallways were so familiar to me.

...and then I saw her, playing the piano in front of me in the music room. She played it flawlessly, not once looking up to glance at the sheet music. 

...but this song. Why did she have to be playing this song?

'Tomoyo' I inturupted her. 'Please, play something different. please.' 

She took a long stare at me, and I didn't notice it, but she was playing for Eriol, who was sitting on the couch.

Eriol seemed concerned, noting that I was swaying and my eyes looked as if they had sunk into their sockets. 'Syaoran, are you okay? You have a cold, go back to sleep. Unless you want me to take you b-'

'No....no, I'm fine. You can continue. Please, do' I said, quite embarassed that I broke such a moment between the two.

What was happening to me?

I walked upstairs to the bathroom, where I looked into the mirror. I looked different than the Syaoran I knew. I looked weaker, as if I had emerged from a war. My eyes, showing that I hadn't been getting enough sleep. I was a wreck.

I need to see Sakura, I need to talk to her. 

I'm taking this too far.

~to be continued

Author's Note: I just told the entire story, literally, in one dream. Read over this chapter again, but take a closer look. Do not think that Syaoran was walking upon a path through a field, think of it as, the path signifies Syaoran's life, and he is wandering aimlessly away from it. When he reached the end of his wandering, he realized it wasn't worth it. 

Maybe this won't be so for Sakura and Syaoran, but you never know. Maybe Syaoran will be able to make it up to her. Or perhaps, maybe it'll be too late. Or even worse. Perhaps she'll be dead by then.

Oh, and no, this is not a T+S story.

...and I'm hitting writer's block before i reach each story. If they seem sloppy, that would be why. Instant message me on AIM or AOL on Ukyou11 and be sure to ask any questions if u have any. I'll be on late, so expect me to be on :P

ja~ 

and if you don't see this story being updated, it doesn't mean I died or discontinued the story. It means I need more time to finish my current chapter.


	5. Chapter Five Real or Imagined?

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Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

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Chapter Five - Real or Imagined?

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'Here it is' Tomoyo said, opening the heavy glass doors with both hands. It was a small cafe, and I followed her to a table in the corner. Eriol told me during the walk here that the coffee and food were both excellent here, and I took his word. Other than that, the view out to the street was one in which the light touched even the darkest corner, neon signs and screens flashing everywhere. 

My attention was taken away from me when Eriol tapped my shoulder with a menu, and I shook at first, and then thanked the man and opened it. It was a fine selection of things to order, and I took a current special, which according to the description, must be good. I then reached for my wallet, but Eriol stopped me. 

'We'll take care of the tip, Syaoran. We still owe you for that dinner long ago, if you remember.' he said, and I listened. I put my wallet back into my pocket, glad that such people existed around me. I smiled and nodded to him, and the waitress took our orders. 

It was a few minutes of fumbling for coins that followed. It was a tradition, I could guess, that they needed to both operate the small music player every time they came here. 

'Don't mind us, Syaoran. Its like this everytime.' Tomoyo told me, laughing. They started to playfully steal coins from eachother, in order to be the one that put it into the machine. Finally, Eriol nearly jumped for it and was the one that pressed the button. 

'I'll take it you won't mind to dance while we're waiting for the food to come?' Eriol then asked Tomoyo, getting out of his seat and offering his hand in a dance. The music hadn't even been chosen yet, but she smiled at him. 

'I never thought you would have asked' she said to him, taking his hand, standing up and taken in by his arms. They danced, despite the fact that no music played. Then, Eriol lifted his head and his hand, as well as four of his fingers. I nodded, and put on the appropriate track, track four. It was like that until the song ended. People looked at the young couple, taking in their joy...and couldn't help but smile. I smiled as well, but not because I wanted to, but almost because I had to. In reality, I was very much jealous, but it wasn't enough to stop them from having a good time. 

The two finally sat back down, the machine giving a 'whir', and you could hear the coins drop in. That was the end of that.

'You still dance like an angel, Tomoyo.' Eriol smiled, as he sat down. 'You'd wish you could dance like that forever.'

They didn't hug or kiss in front of me, however, as though they knew it would hurt me. They were good at hiding it though, and they were lucky that the food arrived so soon, because I would've gone crankier....I was hungry.

'Dance like that forever?' I asked Eriol. 'Wouldnt you get tired of it eventually?' I laughed as I said it, hiding it as a joke. He laughed too, a fake laugh, for he knew it wasn't funny. Perhaps he even sensed it wasn't even supposed to be a joke. 

Tomoyo could immediatly sense some tension, and went right into work to change the subject. 

'So, Syaoran, how are your photographs? I haven't seen your portfolio in ages.' she asked me, while feeding her mouth with fries. I chuckled and then replied: 'Fine, as usual'

I continued, 'I'm planning to go out to the mountains, camp there, and probably take some pictures while hiking. If you want, I have extra sleeping bags if you want to come. I have more than enough room in my truck.'

Eriol looked at Tomoyo for approval, much as he usually did. She nodded, and he turned and noddeed to me back. 

'We'd love to go, Syaoran. Give us a date though, Eriol might be going to Nagoya for business again.' Tomoyo said back, offering me a french fry. I declined, I had half a plate of them already. 

I knew that there were topics that Tomoyo and Eriol didn't want to touch, however, and I knew they wouldn't bring them up at all. Instead, I decided to bring them up, and see what they would say. 

'I heard Sakura got hurt bad a few days ago.' I said, taking a large bite out of the burger I held. Tomoyo was silent at first, and then replied. 'Yea, she ... actually, she was attacked while walking home on Tuesday morning. Don't act stupid Syaoran, I was the one that called you, silly.'

She laughed, and I laughed also, after about a second's pause. 'Yea, she was raped so you told me. While walking back home from the store, yes, you did tell me that.' 

'Have you visited her in the hospital yet?' Eriol asked me, and I nodded. 

'She was sleeping, both times I saw her actually.' I replied. 'Both times, however, I could tell that someone was there before me. Perhaps she has a new man already?'

'Yea, I believe so too. Tomoyo wouldn't tell me, so I did a little sneaking of my own just for fun.' Eriol snickered, Tomoyo turned her head and glared at him. 

'You idiot!' She said to him, and he laughed. 

'You can't stop me from having a little fun, Tomoyo. Besides, I didn't kill anyone.' he sneered. She turned her face, knowing that she couldn't shut the man up.

'Anyways, as I was saying, he's about your age, maybe about 5'10, and he's got a pretty stable job, so I hear' he said. 'She was actually on the way to his house when she was attacked, but I've been hearing that things weren't too good for the both of them during it all.' 

What he said took me by surprise, and i dropped my fork, quite rudely. 'Excuse me, they weren't happy with one another?' I asked, not believing him at all. 

'Yeah, she told me that she was probably going to call it all off' Tomoyo continued. 'That might be why she was going to his house, she usually would call, right?'

I quickly took out my wallet and threw down the money for the meal. 'I...I think I have to go.' I told them both, thanking them and walking towards the door.

'Wait a sec, Syaoran!' Tomoyo inturrupted. 'Where are you going?!' 

I quickly opened the door, but before I ran out, I yelled to both of them.

'I'm going to see Sakura!'

---

It wasn't such a long walk to the hospital, after all. I at least didn't get lost while looking at the street signs...the cafe was merely four blocks from the hospital.

The doors were still unlocked, and I walked in, the air conditioning turned on too high, making me shiver with only the first step. 

'Wait a minute, Syaoran' I heard someone speak from behind me, and I turned around to see who it was. It was someone I didn't know, but he was around the same age as me, only slightly taller. My first guess was that he was Sakura's man, but his introduction proved me wrong.

'Syaoran, tell me, what do you plan to do when you walk up those stairs, much as you always do, and open that door? What if her man is sitting right there reading her a bedtime story, how will you walk away from that?' he said to me, taking the step ahead of me as to stop me.

'You're only going to get yourself hurt, Syaoran. You know it.'

I pushed him out of the way, thrusting the stair doors open and making my way up. Lo and behold, however, the same man reappeared, sitting on the railing. 

'Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am John. Perhaps a Johnny, or a Johnathan to you, a riddle already in my name. Would you call me foolish if I said that I was here to stop you from doing what you are about to do?' he said, tilting his head slightly to the right as he did so. He seemed like a nut, and I was probably right in thinking so.

'Johnny, or whoever you are, don't get yourself involved in something that has nothing to do with you at all.' I said, running past him and onto Sakura's floor.

I walked down the hall, and was about to open the door when I felt a tap upon my shoulder.

'You called me Johnny, while in the meantime I told you my name is John. You strayed from the direction again, Syaoran, didn't you?' he asked, and it was obviously the same man again.

'How do you know my name?' I asked him, and he shrugged. 

'I know a lot about you, Syaoran. Believe me.' he said, and with that, he snapped his fingers. A certain familiar piano tune played once again, and I glared at the man. 

'She told you not to stray from the path, Syaoran, and here you are, in front of the big wooden door again, right about to stray once again.' he said, shaking his head. A nurse soon walked down the hall, and I stopped her.

'Excuse me, Miss, but do you see anyone else in this hallway?' I asked her, and she looked at me strangely. She shook her head and made her way back down the hall. I turned to John again, and shook my head.

'You aren't real, John, I'm just seeing things again, aren't I?' I asked him, and he leaned his shoulder against the wall.

'No, Syaoran, but before you go off asking if I am real or imagined, be sure to wonder whether or not the feeling you seek right now is real...or could it be imagined? Or possibly...a deception...' he leered, frolicing though his pockets and throwing me a small pocketwatch.

'Be sure to check the day, Syaoran. You never know when it could be the last to find out beforehand.' he said, walking down the hall. I gave a look at the watch, and then looked back up to where he was.

He was gone.

And when I looked back down, I saw nothing more than an empty hand. It soon wasn't empty anymore, however. I turned the knob with it and made my way inside.

'Sakura, are you awake?' I asked, turning on the light switch.

...and indeed she was.

~to be continued

Author's Note: Quite a riddle John has left us there. Perhaps Syaoran can tell he isn't real, that he is merely a figment of his imagination, but the question John poses to him is indefinitly haunting, perhaps what Syaoran desires more than ever now is fake as well, that it is not true.

Not straying from the path is his constant warning, and what if Syaoran does so? Will he be expecting another disappointment at the end of a long trail of footsteps? Or perhaps, the footsteps will go on forever, and he will be stuck in that dance forever in his mind, forever dancing alone. 

Don't think this is the last time that you'll see these ilusions either. They seem to be his only warning, and maybe Syaoran will find that he should've listened to them. Or maybe the story won't go that way at all, and instead, it will be the illusions that are proven wrong. Take a side, pick a card from the deck. Will it either be red or black?

~Ukyou

By the way, more reviews = the more I feel like writing. Be sure to leave a tab at least, or ask a question in a review. I'll be glad to read them over, and I'll probably answer them in the next author's note.

Until then, keep reading, and keep reviewing.

July 27th 2002 4:43 AM, EST


	6. Chapter Six Questions Answered

****

Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

==========================

Chapter Six - Questions Answered

==========================

'Sakura...?'

'Sakura...?'

'Sakura......?'

----

Her eyes, emeralds trapped in glass, it was those eyes that told she she was awake. At first, I didn't open the door all the way, only taking a small peek from between the door and the wall. She quickly noticed, however, and motioned her hand to let me in. 

'Are you so sure of that?' I asked, not opening at all, instead, just peeping through the small niche. She looked at me strangely, all she could see was my eye peering into hers, the thought of her's dominated by the wonder of the people she knew that had green eyes.

'Well, perhaps you can stand out there forever and talk with everyone hearing you, or you can sit here and talk privatly, much as I think you would, Syaoran.' she said, motioning for me to enter again.

The door gave a creak as I opened it, and I took a step in, keeping my head up, and sitting down in my small white plastic chair. She had her head upon the pillow, and looked at me. Her hair was long, and wove through her shoulders and down her back, like seaweed first removed from the blue. She gave a smile, and then started.

'Syaoran, u know what happened to me, right?' she asked me, and I nodded, keeping a serious tone. What I would give to just laugh for no reason at all, and I didn't know why. It was an urge without reason to exist. 

It was quiet, much as I had expected. I dropped my head, and my head felt as if someone had grabbed it, shaken it to mix p my thoughs, and then put it back. I knew exactly what I was going to say, but now...all I could do was keep quiet. 

'Aren't you gonna say something, Syaoran?' she asked, her voice sounding weak, as was expected by me. She spoke as if nothing had happened between us, and that we were still friends or something. Whatever.

'How can you talk in that kind of tone?' I asked her. 'So, soft, as if you'd expect me to talk the same way to you.' 

'What are you talking about?' she asked me cluelessly. Her eyes tilted a bit to the side, as to say I was crazy, but the rest of her keeping still. Very very still. 

'What do you mean 'What are you talking about''?! Its been 3 months Sakura, and you left me there for..for...' I then picked up the small picture frame that her man had left on her table. '...for this man! You betrayed me and walked away from me! And you dare ask me THAT?!'

She was speechness, but I wasn't. In only a second, I had exploded, furiously. I stood up, even, and she didn't look up at me at all. Instead, she just looked forward.

'You know what, Sakura, maybe I should just leave you then. And then, when you get out of here, maybe I'll be the one to leave a letter on your door, only to turn my back on you too!!' I yelled, and she was shaking.

'Syaoran, don't go...please, don't go. There is too much to be said....' 

...and then I cut her off. 

'You know what, Sakura? I am sick off all of this, the lies, the...the visions that I keep seeing. I'm sick and tired of all this bullshit!' I yelled, but then she gave out in a small frail voice.

'Syaoran...'

...but I continued yelling, ravenous and mad I was, and my words showed it. 

'Goddammit Syaoran!' she screamed, picking up the picture frame and smashing it on the ground. 'Listen to me!!!' 

I then shut up completly, the words had been stolen from me, packaged, and shipped away. In fact, I completly forgot what I was about to say. 

'Syaoran...I'm dying.' she said, giving a deep sigh as she said so. '...and the doctors say that I only have a few weeks, maybe, if I'm lucky.'

'Wait, no...no Sakura, you're lying. I can see your smile formi-'

'No, Syaoran.' she said, reaching for my hand and holding it tight. 'Syaoran, I'm dying.'

She lowered the blanket, and I could see it. Her abdomen was heavily bandaged and much of her other arm as well. 

'Sakura....what ...no....' I said, and I soon found myself shaking. 'No, Sakura, the doctors, they can heal you...they can, can't they?'

'Syaoran, they shot me. I was in a coma for so long, until I woke up and saw you at my door 2 hours later now.' she said, smiling weakly. 'There are so many wounds, its a miracle I'm even alive right now...'

Then, my eyes began to tear. It didn't matter anymore of how she left me...but she...she was going to be gone...

...but no, she couldn't be dying....no, its not possible. Perhaps, this is another dream. Or maybe I'm seeing things again...

'Syaoran, I know what I did. Don't ask me why I did it, because I don't know. Just...please, its been bad enough for me already...just don't ask me why I didn't. Lets play a masquerade, as if nothing happened at all.' she said, still holding my hand.

'Sakura, you're thinking too much. Please, go to sleep, rest. I'll sit here next to you, and I'll be sitting here when you wake up.' I told her, and she smiled at me.

'Syaoran, are you doing this because you feel as if you should, or because I am dying and my hand is more likely going to slip out of your hands any minute now?' she asked, lifting her head and facing me. 

'Sakura, the masquerade, has it started?' I asked, and she nodded.

'Then you are asking too many questions. I'll sit here, and I'll watch over you. You will sleep, but to do so, you need to shut your eyes.' I said, almost forgetting that she was dying at all. 

'Syaoran, hold my hand...' she said.

'I am, Sakura.' I said back, but by then, she was already asleep.

Her hand was still warm, which told she wasn't dead. It was a relief. 

---

Its funny now, when I think of it, I notice that I never asked her why she left me at all. Instead, I kept quiet about it, even forgetting it, to the point of which I lived out our artificial reality, that we pretended like we never left eachother. It felt good, but the question lingers in my head now, when I think of it.

'Was it true love?'

---

Author's Note: And here we go, the big question from chap 4:

Who in the hell is John?

Well, if you've seen 'A Beautiful Mind', you can tell where the story is gonna go to, but not THAT intense or anything. 

Syaoran sees people and hears voices in his head. He's gone crazy, and they try to change his decisions constantly. Its scitzophrenia, or however u spell it. His imaginations appear real to him, so real that he would not deny them real at first glance. 

The overall question of the story is, 'What is real, and what is not'. Perhaps in the figure of people, and things, but love as well. How can you tell true love and spoken love apart? The thing is, you can't, not until its all over. 

4:11A.M. - July 30th 2002 

~Ukyou


	7. Chapter Seven Syaoran's Second Dream

****

Left With A Flower

By Ukyou

===========================

Chapter Seven - The Second Dream

===========================

There was a river nearby, and I walked over it to wash off my face. I kneeled down, splashing the cool liquid upon myself, the coolness of it soothing and relaxing. It was quiet, except for the sound of the quaint stream, in its own silent whisper of travels.

I then got up, finding the path leading into a large bamboo forest, one that stretched out as wide as the mountain's feet ahead of me. The air was cold, and frost was gathering upon the edges of the grass that swayed near me, and you could hear them constantly being pushed by the wind, back and forth in a line. It was almost as if you could see the wind as it ran against the heads of each blade. 

I followed the path forward, the forest growing larger and larger as I neared it. It was an arch, it seemed, that began the forest, complete darkness in the presence of midday. Quite strange it was, and magical perhaps, small lines of light seeping down to the path though the thick leaves of the bamboo, disappearing as they hit the ground. It was dramatically colder within the forest, and above me, the bamboo branches seemed to bend over as to greet me. A tunnel, it was, and visibility was all gone in a place where the bamboo stalks soon became walls of the path, preventing you for straying, or climbing. They were two great walls at my side, each going up for many many feet. 

'Syaoran, good to see you' I heard from behind me suddenly, and turning it around, I could see it was John. 

'John?' I asked, tilting my head slightly to examine his face. He had short brown hair, combed back. His clothes were that of an old light-brownish suit, a white shirt and a pair of trousers that were a single size too big for him. From his hand, a small pocketwatch, gold plated, and ticking away the hours. He spoke with a British accent, but the kind you would expect from a fine distinguished gentleman, the kind that would riddle in conversation with poems.

'In the flesh' he answered, twirling around the watch about his hand. 'Perhaps we should take a walk and enjoy the splendor of it all, shall we?' he asked me. I agreed, and we walked, side-by-side deeper into the forest.

'It does get cold in here, Syaoran, have you brought a jacket with you?' he asked me. He then looked about me, and laughed. 'Well then, perhaps I shall lend you mine!' 

I turned down his offer.

'Ahh, but a modest man you are' he exclaimed. 'Why, would you freeze as to not trust me, for to you I am as real as last night's dream, or the one before it?'

'Modest you call me?' I questioned, continuing my stride, hands in my pockets. 'I have air to breathe, the legs with my feet work perfectly, and my camera is here to see the world for me.'

'A camera you say? But did not God give you the eyes to capture the world on your own?' he asked back, going faster until I found him walking backwards in front of me.

'A mind is there for oneself, but not for others to view, John.' I answered again, slowing my walk as to not collide with the man.

...and then he stopped, his hand holding a finger up. 

'Syaoran, I would declare, but I have no rock or stair to stand upon. Instead, I will merely state it to you.' he said in a low voice, smooth yet rough upon the bottom. 

'..and John, what would that be?' I asked him, looking puzzled. He smiled, and then stood back up straight.

'Syaoran, the camera you speak of, it is not on you. Thus, do you find yourself blind to the world until it is pressed against your bosom by its thick thread?' he asked. 

'They are my eyes, John' I laughed. '..but they are not the only eyes I possess, for these two are what I use to gaze upon you now!'

'Yes, but soon it will grow dark within this forest, so dark that the fireflies themselves will be our only guiding light!' he laughed, while running down the path. I soon ran after him, his brown coat trailing behind him.

'Run Syaoran! Run after me! I fear that the fireflies will eat me if I am alone!' he joked, running into the darkness ahead. It was queer, lights blinking off and on from within. Quite the image of fear, and yet I ran in, following John's riddles. He was a man who loved to hear his voice it seemed, and one that spoke loudly. A man that loved speeches.

It came to the point in which I was stuck in the dark, and it was completely silent. Not a single word spoken, not a single footstep taken.

'John! John?! Where did you go?!' I yelled, until I felt a hand upon my stomach, and a 'shhh'

'Syaoran, do not talk so loud, or you will be scaring off the fireflies!' he scolded me. Then, in front of me, I saw a small light quickly disappear at the sound of the clasp of hands. 

'There! I caught it!' John whispered contently. I could hear him take out a small jar and unscrew the lid, followed by the bright light reappearing inside it. 'Come on, Syaoran. Catch some, its all in the name of good fun. At least have _some_ fun before you wake up and see Sakura again.'

'See Sakura?' I asked him, and I had just remembered. Sakura, the hospital, the white plastic chair, a smashed picture frame. Why, this entire thing...must have been a dream! 

'Yes, and you do believe that this is usually when you wake up, but not in this case, no.' he replied, as another light disappeared. 'Perfect!' was his only exclamation. 

'Yea, I'd expect it. I don't know. This is just a dream, right John?' I asked him, and he gave a snicker. 

'Indeed, old friend, and yet I am as well. But first tell me, do you know how to catch a firefly?' he asked, keeping his usual tone intact. 

'No, I don't. I've never done it, but it looks easy enough.' I said back to him, and he gave a chuckle in response.

'It is easy when you have a moon's light to guide you, but not when your hands are blind to you in the catch.' he said. 'Its all in the hands.' 

I tried to do so, and I found that he was right. And just to mock me, the blinking lights would all be to close before me, even before I could do as much as touch the firefly in my gaze.

'Syaoran, be patient. Breathe deep, watch the trailing light, and then swiftly attack.' he said to me, whispering. '...come on, be the predator.'

..and I waited for a few moments and lashed out, the light disappearing.

'I did it!' I exclaimed in a silent whisper, but upon opening my hands, I noticed that there was no light. Instead, there was nothing to see.

'Apparently not, Syaoran. It looks like you killed it.' He laughed, his footsteps telling me that he was walking away.

'Killed? Hah, and you should talk, 'stalk it like a predator'?' I said back to him, and his footsteps stopped.

'Syaoran, when it comes to such things, the predator has no teeth.' he quickly stated, and continued his walk. Soon, I could see a light at the other end, and it was growing less dark around me.

'Here, Syaoran, take this.' he said, handing me the jar of fireflies. 'It might not be real, but it all that dreams have to offer.' 

and I took it. 'Thanks' was all I said back.

'Well, I'm off Syaoran. I did have a good time this time around, but be sure to give a small wave to Sakura for me, whether or not its straying from the path now. Its too late for me to say anything to stop you, and either way, you wouldn't listen to me.' he said.

'...and what's that supposed to mean?' I yelled back at him, and he merely continued walking.

'Syaoran!' He declared, rising an arm into the air. 'Let it be a final farewell, and a great one it must be. Make it special, for perhaps you will never get a change such as this!'

...and then he ran out, still yelling. 'Let it be me that will be the first to disappear!' 

---

...and I woke up. again.

I put a hand to my forehead, and then shook it. My neck felt stiff, and I stood up to stretch, but just as I stood up, I could feel something roll down my lap, and the sound of shattered glass erupted. 

...and then, the small fireflies started to fly around the small hospital room. Sakura wasn't awake to see it, and I was surprised that the loud sound hadn't even startled her. 

...but the fireflies in the air, John's gift, I didn't bring in such a glass container when I walked in here, did I? No...but...wait. 

How could this be possible?

That question didn't linger in my mind for very long, however, for I had come up with an idea. An idea to make tomorrow night all the more magical.

Yes, I would do it.

...and I sat back down, holding Sakura's hand again. The chair was uncomfortable, but yet, I still managed to fall back asleep, and go back to the world of dreams.

Let it be me to fly off into the stars.

~to be continued

Author's Note: My tooth hurts. Ow. I keep poking it for some reason, and it keeps hurting. this really sucks.

anyways, any questions, please, feel free to instant message me at Ukyou11 (AOL)

I dunno what to say other than 'I'm tired' and 'I'm hungry'. So, I'll leave it to you guys to contact me or whatever. Right now...well, you know. read the above.

*yawn* *stomach grumbles* goddammit. lol

3:17 A.M. - July 31st 2002 


	8. Chapter Eight Fireflies

**Left With A Flower**

By Ukyou

==================

Chapter Eight - Fireflies

==================

The first thing I noticed was that I was all alone.

Which was what I had been seeking for most of the night, and upon realizing this, I sat down and opened my book. The bench was under a lamp in the park, and moths and other insects flew about the area, attracted by the luminance. 

And so, there I sat. Cup of coffee by my side, the notebook in my hands. The steam rose from the cup, sending a warm feeling to the hand lifted above it. I searched my pockets for a pen, and soon after finding, decided to think upon what to write about.

I leaned the notebook against my knee and scribbled down some notes on what to possibly write. I wanted my head away from Sakura for the moment, just a time to clear up. 

Just for a little while.

It was going to be something simple, yet powerful. I knew exactly what I wanted, and yet my head felt completely blank about it still. Perhaps there was too much in my mind, but wouldn't that be such a good occasion to be able to write? 

...and yet, even with the writer's block consuming my mind, I still was able to place my pen upon that piece of paper. 

'...the flowing fires of fireflies streaming to the tops of trees on the darkest nights.'

...it wasn't what I had expected, but it fit such a night as now. The fireflies indeed were everywhere, and at sunset, they swarmed by the thousands, and flew up towards the sky. Beautiful, indeed. haunting as well though.

'...her eyes, glittering with the light that stood from behind me...'

The idea had come so suddenly to my head. The sound of a music box, a familiar tune repeating itself until the winding ran out. A large field, a beautiful sunset. With the sound of the music box, the decrescendo of a light drizzle, two people standing there, shadows to me within these daydreams, but their faces clear to each other. The wind sending a slight whisper through the tips of the grass, and the two figures staring at one another. 

...but the same question ran through my head. What to say next? Should he simply speak to her? Should she walk away for whatever he had done? What was happening in such a mental picture, one with the sounds, emotion, and the images, and yet no story behind it?

...and that haunting music box, luminance diminished, nothing more than a slight dash of what it once was. An echo perhaps, ghostly, a spectre. Still, music is never seen, but instead heard. An unsuspecting shadow it could be, so how could one say that music is different merely by its sounding. Perhaps music is ghastly in nature. Perhaps our perception is merely on a different level than what really is.

Writing through questions, perception through ignorance. An endless sheet of debates, and only a single mental image. 

Then, I put down my pen to think for awhile, taking a quick drink from my coffee. It was warm to my nose, and tickled its way up my face. The taste keeping me awake, and I put the cup down again and took some time to look around myself. 

There were fireflies flying about, flickering like small flashlights. On and off, on and off they went. Never a predictable pattern, never a second after. I was so intrigued by them, that I decided to follow them, pausing as their lights went out. It soon took me to a large clearing deep inside the forest, light shrubs hitting the ankles of my legs. The fireflies swarmed in shapeless patterns, trapped eternally in a waltz of the sky. 

It was a ballroom it seemed, one for the fireflies as they went about in the air. There were so many that if I had reached out and closed my hand, I would've owned an ordinary day's catch.

I sat down on the ground, the tall grass tickling my sides. I still held my coffee, but I had left my notebook on the bench. It wouldn't have done me well to bring it, there was no light to write with. 

The fireflies did give out a wonderful glow though, and if I was a child, I would've probably enjoyed it even more now. Instead, no, I sat and admired. Perhaps things were done better the mature way, although lacking that sense of liveliness.

I soon found myself lying down on my back, arms folded behind my head. From here, the fireflies looked as if they were thousands of twinkling stars, reproducing the sky as they saw fit. The coffee was cooling, and the steam that rose from the cup diminished over time. 

A haunting sound then appeared from within the forest, a familiar piano tune. The fireflies seemed to react to the music and slowly gathered in one large group. I stood up, walking towards the cloud of fireflies. They flew about me, until they quickly started to fly deeper into the forest.

'A masquerade, Syaoran.' a voice then said, echoing through my mind. 'Follow and perhaps the masks shall fall off'

...and I started running after the fireflies, following them. Their quick flashes were caught at the corners of my eyes, a mere glint telling me where to go. 

Its voice was a male's, a ghostly chime hung at the end of it. It seemed to come from all around me, although I knew that to be impossible. 

'Syaoran, are you just taking a little jog?' another man's voice said from behind me. 'Perhaps you are just realizing that the stopwatch has finally reached the end?' 

I didn't turn towards him at all, instead, I ran faster.

'Maybe you noticed that the music box shall be smashed again, much like your heart, Syaoran.' he said, giving a slight laugh at the end. 

'Don't bother me' I yelled to him, the fireflies still leading me to an unknown destination. It was dark, so I wouldn't be able to see the man anyway, make exceptions to the streams of moonlight peeking down towards the ground. 

I could hear myself breathing hard, and yet I never found any burden to stop running for. I could hear footsteps trailing behind me, however, which seemed to get closer and closer.

'Syaoran! Give up your chase! For all you know, she's already dead! Its been days since you've seen her last!' he repeated. 'Face it, its too late! She'll have her drawers decorated with flowers from her man, as you stand in black at her funeral and spectate the words you should be saying! Perhaps that shall bring a ring to your ears!'

'I said don't bother me!' I yelled again, keeping up my pace as best I could. I could see lights coming closer in front of me, which told me I was nearing somewhere.

'Fine! I shall take my leave, but have you any words to say, you'll have nowhere to go! You're all alone, you fool!'

...and I ran out of the forest. 

I stood in front of a road, the edge of a sidewalk. In front of me, in a menacing glare, the hospital stood, shining lights down like a tower, a tower I would have to climb in order to penetrate it. 

...Sakura...

She popped into my head almost immediately, and I ran through the doors of the hospital in a fit of impatience. 

Please, don't make it too late.

Don't leave me here, not like this

...not like this...

~cont

Author's Note: ...and indeed it has been awhile. My fit of writer's block has consumed me, and I couldn't write for the longest time.

Now, however, I have a good picture built in my head, thanks to countless 'mind wanderings' in Ms. Daniels' class. The next chapter is, hopefully, the final chapter to the story. I'm glad I'm finally finishing this story, as beautiful as it is. 

In this chapter, Syaoran has his final fit with voices in his head. A conflict in the forest, should he run after something over pure instinct, or be lured to stay behind and accept the inevitable? Two voices, one decision. Which would you dare to take?

~ Ukyou

10:09 - September 11th 2002 - God Bless


	9. Chapter Nine Masquerade

**Left With A Flower**

By Ukyou

=====================

Chapter Nine - Masquerade

=====================

The hallways seemed darker than usual.

The lights were not on, and I wandered aimlessly through a dome of total darkness. I traced the walls, trying to find my way through the hall. Then, I could hear the speakers turn on, as a song was projected. It was a mysterious tune, one that made me feel for the walls even more so than I already was. I had been blinded, the light robbed from me. 

I wouldn't have noticed the difference had I closed my eyes. 

Then, a firefly on the wall traced the contours for me. It blinked with small facets of light, until my hand touched the sharp coolness of a window.

...and with that, sunlight mysteriously peered into the room. Its icy fingers existant only in sight, and in touch. I glanced out of the window for a brief moment, pausing beforehand to allow my eyes to adapt.

It indeed was a beautiful sight, the sun's first rising. There were endless fields of grass spreading out in all directions, making him feel as if he were in a tower, a solitude perhaps. 

'The sunrise of a new day, and so one begins' the voice said to me. That voice was John's.

'Oh, dont mind me, Syaoran. Don't turn away from that window.' he said, swaying his finger back and forth. He still wore the brown coat that was two sizes too large, the look of an intellectual. A pen in one hand and a camera in the other, which he gave to me in haste.

'Your camera, keep such a picture for posterity.' he said to me, taking his pen and letting it lie upon his ear. 'You might as well just take it, for I can understand that this is just another dream. You have no film to waste here.

And I held up my camera to take the shot. A single click and it was done. My camera only had a single exposure left. 

'No worries, Syaoran. Dreams don't take effect upon the real world. Only magic does.'

'Indeed' I answered, wrapping the camera strap around my neck. 

There was a long silence, and John motioned for me to walk with him. He pulled out a small stopwatch and swung it like a pendulum as he walked. 

'Tick tock go the seconds as we walk upon stairs- that is how the poem begins, right?' he asked me. I shook my head, even though I had never heard of such a poem.

Another long silence. 

'Hmm, I know what must be troubling your mind!' he declared in a tone that would have judged madness, although one's madness usually clouds a great deal of intellect.

'Your question, even if misworded, is this world, or am I real or imagined?' He brought to me. 'And if it were, you'd wonder how you came about here and why you had taken a picture of a giant grassfield, something you've always seen.'

'Well, what if more than just these dreams and I are just imagined? If you had none to compare to, you would be lost in such a dull reality, now would you Syaoran?'

I kept quiet.

'"let us act out a masquerade", those were her words to you Syaoran, weren't they indeed? Have you ever seen the fools stuck in the deck of cards, pulled out as if imitating a king or a jack? What is a masquerade, Syaoran?' 

Quiet still.

Then, he came up closer to me and declared for all the world to hear. 'It is a dream! Weaved from the majicks of the cupids as they shoot your heart for their own jesters!'

'Real or Imagined, Syaoran? What love is real? One in which you must be loved, or one in which you feel as if you should? Tell me the bold line inbetween both of those!'

'You haven't the slightest idea!' I yelled at him. 'Not one single thought, nor quiver, nor clever jeer.'

'Ah, perhaps I do not. But nor do you'

...and with that, his stopwatch gave out a small ring.

'...and nor may you ever, until you are seconds too late.'

---

...and I was awakened, sitting upon a chair near Sakura's bed. It was still late, and she lay asleep. I shook my head, and then noticed that my camera was strapped around my neck. I immediatly stood up, looking around myself. How had I come here all of a sudden? I had no memory of walking up the wooden stairs, none of tracing my steps within the hallways. 

I simply was here, and there was no explanation as to how, or even why. Not a single to be asked about it either, I merely sat back down.

It was so dark in the room, and yet, I could still see light shining in her eyes. A riddle, even if silent, it was. Riddles in the dark perhaps.

Then, it came unexpectedly. A single light rising as if it had come from the insides of my pockets. I lifted a finger to follow its path in the air, as I noticed that there was not only one, but two.

Then Threes and Fours. A fifth appearing as my finger outlined the window. Then, as if sprouting from the floor, they came up as if they were shooting stars, waving slowly and steadily back and forth. A sea of light perhaps even, a neon ballroom. 

And I saw her stand up from her bed. She was different though, her exterior that of a long flowing white gown. Magic it was perhaps, but none that brought my mind to questioning. She seemed so perfect that I was afraid that by holding her hand, I would be damaging her perhaps. 

'Would you have to believe in magic to see what you are seeing?' she asked me. 'Is there an ounce of disbelief at all?'

She looked me in the eyes, her head slightly tiled to the side, allowing her hair to be weaved into shapeless positions as a mysterious wind left an essence to the impression of an angel. 

'Photographers have nothing to believe' I replied. 'We capture what we see'

The room around us both seemed to disappear in a wisp of fireflies, them taking the form of a new sun. It was bright, but not bright enough to blind us both. 

'Syaoran' she then said, her arms resting upon my shoulders. 'I don't need any impossible promises, nor any wishes that can't be granted.'

'I just want a kiss'

We separated a few before I cleared my throat. 

'Would that be all that you desire?'

...and with that, she quickly nodded her head. So, I did the natural.

'Let this end our masquerade. No questions asked, let this end here.' I answered. As I did so, however, the ticking of a clock could be heard echoing in the distance. 

I ignored it, however, and took her into my arms. She looked up at me, and I looked down at her. And with that, there came a kiss. Not a long romantic kiss, nor a small peck. Instead, it was the kiss that fit our need, the _perfect_ kiss.

And we parted, letting go. 

'Syaoran, I never wanted to be the person to tell you this...but, I have to go.' she said, looking down, her arms behind her back.

I kept silent, for that was all that I was good for.

'Just...Syaoran. I can't leave you with lies, or ... I don't know...I have no idea of what to say...' she said, her words inturrupted by tears. 

'Syaoran, for my sake, just don't follow me!' she then said, running the other direction from me. 'I don't want to end it as if it were a hopeless romance! I'm not going to pain you by letting you see me disappear!'

Then, from behind me, John's voice.

'Follow her.'

...and I took off running. I could see nothing, but I could hear her footsteps. And within the clouds themselves, her tears fell like rain. An endless chase it might of been, until I caught sight of a single foot. And with that, I tackled her down, seeing her slowly fading from existance. 

'Syaoran...I told you not to follow me...now what is there to say or do?' she asked, the hands that went to reach for my face slowly disappearing. 

'I don't know...but let me just stare at you before you must disappear.' 

I held her tight, her face growing transparent. 

John stood behind us both, and he took out his stopwatch. It quickly ticked away the precious seconds I had, and he stood regarding it. I simply held her, stared at her, until, with an explosion of light, she disappeared.

'...I love you...'

I fell to the ground, for she was no longer there. There were tears shed, I could feel them running down my cheeks.

John said nothing. I said nothing. It was a realm of silence from then on.

'Syaoran, take a breath. A poison to the mind it is, but an ailment perhaps in the long run.'

And I took my breath...

...and woke up once again in the hospital room. Sakura lay on the hospital bed, her eyes closed. The glitter of her eyes hidden and concealed from me. I didn't have to check her at all.

She was dead.

I didn't have to send her my regards, nor pay respects.

I had already done so.

---

A week later, a funeral. I stood in black, her man talking in front of all of us. Tomoyo sat in front of me, and constantly looked back at me, as if to check up on me in some way. I never said a word, nor flinched. 

When it was all over, however, I took out a small flower from a bag I had been holding, and walked past everyone in the small crowd that had spectated the casket. Her man talking to a coffin as I laid it upon the top. He didn't look up, however. He never noticed me. He never asked questions. 

I, instead, walked away.

Not a single word spoken.

Not one at all.

The masquerade was over.

So, what good would it be now to question such a thing?

When such a thing no longer exists?

Not a single word spoken.

_~fin_

Author's Note: A question answered through silence, never questioned, yet still solved. Tell me now, what is real and what is imagined? Could it be so obvious to recognize a trick of the mind, a game perhaps? Or maybe it would be better to leave some questions unanswered.

I'm happy with the path that this story took. It left me thinking, and hopefully, you too. A love lost, and yet, perhaps, it might be a hidden relief. 

It's been great keeping the heads of so many people stuck to this story. I'm starting to feel bad for ending this story, but, all good things come to an end.

and let this be one of them

...oh yea, as you all know, I do use a whole lot of music to help me write. Just for the pure hell of it, I decided to add a list of some of the music I used to write this story:

Final Fantasy X Piano Collections - Guadsalam

Final Fantasy X Piano Collections - Via Purifico

Final Fantasy X Piano Collections - People of the North Pole

Final Fantasy VIII Piano Collections - Find Your Way

Final Fantasy VIII Piano Collections - Ami

Final Fantasy VIII Piano Collections - The Successor

Final Fantasy IX Piano Collections - Loss of Me

Final Fantasy IX Piano Collections - Unfathomed Reminiscence

Final Fantasy IX Piano Collections - Frontier Village Dali

The entire Dashboard Confessional 'Places You Have Come To Fear The Most' CD

A Beautiful Mind Soundtrack - Real or Imagined?

A Beautiful Mind Soundtrack - The Car Chase

A Beautiful Mind Soundtrack - Playing a Game of Go

Chrono Cross - The Start of the Dream

Chrono Cross - The Girl That Stole The Stars

Grave of the Fireflies - Seita and Setsuko (or the other way around)

Grave of the Fireflies - Under the Cherry Blossoms

Grave of the Fireflies - At the Shore of the Pond

Grave of the Fireflies - The Parasol

Special thanks to Elena, who gave me the support to write this. Xiaoyu-chan for reading this, Chris for the insight, and several thousand other people that I cannot list because I'm getting way too tired.

...but thanks Vanilla, for making me want to write again (after reading your rev's). I should read that story of yours. I'll get to it soon.

And to you, the reader. Its been a pleasure telling such a story, but I gotta go to bed now. Ja! Thanks for reading, and review! :P

3:35 AM - Sept 22, 2002


	10. PART II Chapter One From the Cold

**Left With Flowers**

part two

by ukyou

Chapter One - From the Cold

The city was colder today, colder than usual. You would probably expect a city such as this to be a warm place in the fall, especially when only just a touch away from summer. Today, however, the birds fled to their trees, hiding from the bitter and sharp coolness of the air.

As birds fly away, some are trapped outside, trapped in some other cold they cannot escape. Some inner fire that brings about a chilled fear, some cold nightmare. Something so horrible that one can only hide it away. They dare not speak of it, for speaking brings out the knives hidden in their skin. Only by hiding it in some deep corner can they continue to walk one foot after the next. Such things only work to disturb.

Syaoran had a quick eye, one that he had trained day after day. His job was to find something and shoot it. He would just lift his tool of the trade, and with a press of a button, it would all be over.

This is what he would say, at least, being that he was one to try to enhance his persona. He was a photographer, not a trained assassin.

He spoke little to the people around him, but to those he did speak to, he lied to. Especially women, whom he now had a soft spot for. He would make up intricate lies, something along the lines of an impromtu meeting with "Important Person A" and then graduating in a class with "Important Person B". It didn't matter to him who he chose, so long as the person he spoke to seemed to know that person.

Never had he ever spoken about what had happened two years earlier, how Sakura had died, and how he had been through it all, slowly driven crazy. He had even gone as far as imagining a man, seeing him everywhere, and this man spoke out in crazy metaphors. For a year afterwards, Syaoran did not deny that this man was real. What had happened was all too real, the magic seemed almost flawless. Stopwatches were items that he had carried since then. Still, there is always a time in which you look back and you think to yourself, "Well, maybe I was just a bit crazy back then. Maybe I did imagine it all.", and just as quick as it started, it all disappears and the magic is gone.

In order to cope with Sakura's death, however, he had hidden it away so deep that he would have his third thought about a question with a clear understanding. he had almost forgotten about her.

And in what better way than to be with other women? For him, he thought it was another step in normalcy.

Maybe, however, he was still crazy. That with the memories of her hidden away, the small pinch of insanity that he had never dealt with was only packed away in crates. All he had to do was open them back up, and it would start flying out again. Like birds. Like birds flying away from the cold.

Except this time, there was no cold to run away from.

His apartment was red. His furniture, red, his lights, red. The only thing that seemed to not be red were the walls, which were a strange contrasting green. The walls had always been green, a carryover from the previous owners. He drank red wine, he slept under red sheets. To think that he could make money from a photojournalist's pay was hard to believe. To think that he could squander his money on such a monstrosity for an apartment was beyond even him. There was something inside him that told him to buy red, red, and more red.

He kept all of his old items in a box in his closet, a closet he never opened. The previous owners said something about a creepy spirit that lived in it, and so it seemed like the perfect place to put the box. He wouldn't dare open the doors, or else be forced to deal with some evil spirit. Of course, even after his encounter with the clow cards, such things he would only render as superstitions, although the warning seemed quite potent.

He couldn't even remember exactly what he had put in that old box. Maybe a few pictures, a book or two, his sword. A broken bottle, a broken music box. He kept it all in there. When one would ask about it though, it would be only "another box filled with junk". Maybe even "Oh, just a box.". He would never say "Oh, its filled with ordinary stuff." though, it was junk, not stuff. If it were _stuff_, it would be worth keeping. Since it was _junk_, it was only there to be thrown out someday.

He tried to never open it. It basically threw it in the closet the first chance he could and never looked at it again. Guests saw something about the closet curious, and they would always open it, and Syaoran never knew why. People were made to open things, he guessed, maybe they thought it was his darkroom and they could take a peek at his latest photos. Of course, if it were, it would have that bitter smell of a dark room, which there was none of. Maybe his friends found it a hobby to open strange doors.

Sometimes he felt a little nostalgic to just open the box and look inside. Of course, there was the fear of being buried in his memories, but he always felt more and more that he could handle it, that the items contained were just regular items.

Maybe if he opened it today, things would be a little different.

_to be continued_

Author's Note: This is more of an introduction than a chapter, a "this is how things are going now" kind of entry. Obviously, Sakura is dead, and where I left off the story was with Syaoran coming to terms with her death. Now, years later, he finally seems sane again, but there's that small box that keeps calling him almost. One day he's going to open it and he'll think back about what happened. Maybe though, he'll be forced to confront things that he had only hidden away and not confronted. Afterall, you can't run away forever.


	11. Chapter Two Falling from the Sky

**Left With Flowers**

part two

by ukyou

**Before I start on this chapter, I would like to thank the user "K a w a i i - S y a o r a n" who reviewed on my story recently. Reading your review made me think "Well, hey, people _are_ reading this story. Maybe I should update it finally." **

**So thank you very much, and to all those readers, whoever you may be, a review is much appreciated!**

Chapter Two - Falling From the Sky

He grew wings and flew away, that is what his dream was of. It was the dream that he looked forward to, because for once, it felt as if every whisper of a past nightmare was burning away with every gust he passed. Burning away until the very breath of air he had seemed icy cold, the blanket around him disappearing. Then, it was all about the wind, the speed, and the stars to guide him.

Until he would wake up at least, to a brilliant beam of light from the sun. Its warmth would tickle his eyes, making them twitch until he finally opened them. The sun seemed so much further away from here. In his dreams, it was all the warmth he needed.

And when he awoke from such a dream, he was filled with such inspiration that made him get up and dabble with a song dancing in his head. Maybe he had heard it while he was dreaming, but it would be stuck in his brain for the remainder of the day. He would walk outside whistling, humming, and even tapping out the tempo, until the dream was all but forgotten and all that was left was a song.

"Well, isn't that an imperfect scenario." Jacob then said, his eyes peering over a newspaper. "So, you're telling me that you've had this song stuck in your head all day, and now you think that you should come to my apartment to borrow my piano so you can start becoming some great composer or something?"

"I asked you the question, I'm just waiting for an answer." Syaoran replied, sipping his tea softly as people walked past. He had a photographer's eye on at that moment, and his visage was easily distracted by some new interesting thing appearing in the street.

"Well, you know me. I won't even bother answering, just come by in an hour and I'll have the keyboard packaged up for you." Jacob finally said after a moment of pause. He gave a small laugh and taking out the cigarette from his mouth. "C'est bien pour toi?"

"Yea, it is, thank you - I'll pick it up later" Syaoran answered, putting the money he owed the man for his cup of tea on the table. Taking his coat from the chair, he walked away. He had his camera on him, luckily, for as he walked home, he saw the most peculiar thing. A boy standing at the curb with a camera pointed right at him. Syaoran smiled and returned the gesture, taking the photo there and then. The little boy then put down his camera and smiled back, quickly disappearing within the cloud of people surrounding him.

And then two hours later, Syaoran found himself sitting in an old metal folding chair staring downwards at what seemed to be thousands of keys of black and white. He had taken lessons so long ago, and had neglected them. Now, he would constantly borrow keyboards in order to try to make up for his lost touch for the instrument.

When he placed his hands on a piano keyboard, however, he would usually feel awkward. His fingers were not created for a piano it seemed, they acted as if they were the very foundation of its possible destruction. Yet, today, he placed his fingers down as if he had done so thousands of times in the week alone.

And he began to play _something_. Something he had never played nor heard ever. It was a delicate song, his fingers barely pressing down the keys. Then just as quickly as it had come to him, it disappeared. The last note tickled its end as it flowed on into a smooth decreshendo.

Syaoran did not himself notice that he had played such a song, his eyes were frozen in place, staring straight at a green wall. His red sofa, he had once known a red. Something red. No, not yet, something brown - but red ... her name.

Sakura.

Sakura. Sakura.

Sakura. Sakura ....

Her name echoed through his mind over and over again, as if it were water from a falling stream. It would not stop falling, it would just keep coming and coming. Sakura.

She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.

She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead. She's dead.

And he listened as his head kept repeating it to him, finally now not behind bars. His mind was making up for lost time. He hid this pain well, but hidden shadows always jump at the chance to sneak up behind you.

And then it disappeared. Syaoran finally shook his head, his hand supporting it, his elbow on the keyboard. He missed her. He missed her so much that it still burned in his heart, the beauty, the very look she gave him.

Such beauty is made such much more beautiful when imagined. He knew that they did part ways, that she did die, that he had stayed by her side through it all. He knew she had someone else.

But she was so ....

...nevermind that. There was no reason for Syaoran to think of such things. He got up, finally taking satisfaction that he had finally played something satisfactory on the damned keyboard. Taking refuge on his beautiful red sofa, he lounged and turned on the tv, in which all his thoughts about _that_ girl washed away. He was flying again, except this time, he was flying with a 200 channel satelite dish network.

And then he thought for a moment.

Why _did_ he always buy everything in red?

But like all moment-long thoughts, it was washed away in a cloud of other-such-important-moment-long thoughts. Just like a blot of watery ink of paper.

_to be continued_

_August 31st 2004, 2:27 AM_


End file.
